


'why am i an art student if you're more beautiful than anything i can ever make?' - what Kyle Bosman should have said

by orphan_account



Category: Easy Allies RPF, Gametrailers RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Asexual character(s), M/M, and too much coffee, art kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 02:32:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7916986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyle Bosman is exasperated with himself. He should be able to work up the nerve to ask someone out, it's a simple fact of life. But he can't. And Kyle 'I can't do anything right without being explicitly told what to do because I'm afraid of disappointing people and I don't want to disappoint Huber because he is literal sunshine and I think every time he feels sad a person dies and I don't want to test that theory' Bosman continues to dance around the situation with all the grace of a flightless bird.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'why am i an art student if you're more beautiful than anything i can ever make?' - what Kyle Bosman should have said

It’s just edging past eight thirty when Kyle reaches the third floor art studio, sketchbook in one hand, a coffee in the other, and, in stereotypical ‘I’m a poor art student who can not afford a pencil case’ fashion, a pencil tucked behind his ear. He pushes open the door with his back, careful not to tip his coffee and let any of the loose pages in his sketchbook flutter to the ground because God knows, he’s never be able to get them in order again. He turns and he freezes.

Okay, so Kyle’s probably being a bit dramatic, but he didn’t really expect anyone else to be in the studio and here’s this blonde kid he’s never seen before hunched over some paper with incredibly bad posture and drawing with long swooping lines and flicks of his wrist. He looks up.

“Oh, hey. You here to work on something?” He asks and Kyle nods, still not having moved from the doorway. “Alright, cool, Prof gave me the key and I’m going to be here for a while, so you can stay as long as you want.” Kyle nods again and the guy goes back to his sketches and Kyle steps out from the doorway.

He sets up on one of the desks in the back, as far away from the other student as he can manage. He doesn’t want to be annoying or anything, this kid was here first. He sets his pencil down on the desk and hunkers down into a bad posture to rival this other guy’s. Kyle starts thinking about his project.

Sketching a person is… Not hard. It’s what got him into art and it’s probably what he’s best at. It’s a kind of reluctant talent, he supposes, because when you’re good at drawing people, people ask you to draw them and that’s a whole other can of worms. The project wouldn’t be stressful if it was just drawing someone, but it’s not. Of course it’s not. He has to have a rough sketch done in a week, transfer said sketch to canvas, and then paint it in watercolour which is arguably his worst media. Definitely his worst media. There was a reason he hated art class in elementary school. He shakes himself a bit and tries to get back on track. Paper meets pencil and then he’s just drawing.

He fills the page with half ideas and half people. Hairstyles and eyes and noses all over the page in no particular order. Legs, crossed and uncrossed, hands and wire straight poses next to more relaxed ones. It’s like Mary Shelley’s dream, there are enough body parts here for at least three and a half Frankensteins. Kyle is in the middle of drawing a torso, oddly shaded for it just being a simple sketch, when the kid at the front of the room stretches and groans, neck popping audibly. Kyle’s head snaps up and he leans back, rubbing at his eyes and letting his pencil fall to the desk. He pushes his paper closer to the edge as the kid walks over.

“What are you working on?” He asks, glancing at Kyle’s rough sketches.

“Project with people.” Kyle explains. “I mean, not with people, but about them. On them? I don’t know, I just have to draw people.” The guy nods, once, twice, glances at the clock on the wall.

“Jesus, it’s almost midnight.” He chuckles, stretching again. “Are you planning on staying any longer?”

“No!” Kyle says, quickly, and the kid raises an eyebrow. “I mean, not if you’re not. I don’t want to inconvenience you or anything.”

“Nah, man, I always stay really late.” He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that. I’m just kind of winding down right now and I’m probably going to go grab some coffee, I wanted to know if you wanted to come.”

“Isn’t the cafeteria closed?” Kyle asks, rolling his pencil in between his hand and the desk.

“Well, yeah, but there’s a good place I know over on Vine that literally never closes. You in?” He offers and Kyle shrugs.

“I mean, I guess.”

The walk to the coffee place doesn’t take that long and at least it’s cooler at night than it is during the day. The guy greets the staff by name and they smile back, return his hello’s. They get their coffees and collapse in a table next to the window.

“We probably should have done introductions before going out for coffee, but what can you do? I’m Michael Huber. People call me Huber, generally, though.” Huber reaches out his hand and Kyle shakes it.

“Kyle Bosman.” He says in return. “I can’t believe I didn’t know about this place.”

“It’s a well kept secret, man.” Huber winks. “I mean, it’s not. It’s a business, I can’t be the only customer coming here or they’d never turn a profit.” Kyle takes a sip of his coffee.

“Well, I personally don’t know how much you put into this place, but I’m going to sink in a heck of a lot more money now. This coffee is so good.” Kyle laces his fingers around the cup and Huber is looking at him and shaking his head. “What?”

“Did you really just say ‘a heck of a lot’?” Huber asks, incredulous, and Kyle rolls his eyes.

“Actually shut up.” Kyle says and Huber shrugs. “Leave me alone, I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“A heck of a lot of nothing.” Huber agrees and Kyle groans.

“Why are you like this?” He asks and Huber laughs, loud in the quiet business of the coffee shop, even though they’re the only two customers in it.

“Look, okay, I’m sorry for teasing you.” Huber apologizes, but there’s a smirk pulling at the edges of his lips. “I guess I’m going to heck.”

“Heck off.” Kyle retorts and Huber utterly loses it, cackling with his head thrown back, and Kyle grabs his coffee off the table to prevent it from getting spilled. He decides, with a sip of his coffee and a small smile while Huber nearly dies, that he does not hate this guy.

They leave the coffee shop together not long after that and Kyle checks his watch.

“Oh, it’s really late. I should probably go to sleep if I want to be semi-conscious tomorrow.” Kyle says, pulling his sleeve back down. 

“What about your stuff?” Huber questions.

“I’ll grab it in the morning before my classes, don’t worry about it.” They stop at the crossroads where their paths diverge, Kyle heading left, Huber continuing straight. “You gonna be working tomorrow night?”

“I’m in there almost every night, Kyle, you’ll be hard pressed to find me somewhere else.” Huber laughs.

“Strange, you struck me as the type of kid who loved to party.” Kyle jokes and Huber pushes Kyle slightly.

“Heck off, man. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” Huber questions and Kyle nods. “Cool, g’night.” Their paths split there.

Kyle, being true to his word, is there the next night, once again pushing the door open with his back to avoid spilling either of the coffees in his hands. 

“Hey, Bosman.” Huber greets, waving from his desk. “Brought you some coffee.”

“Uh…” Kyle holds up the two cups in his hands. “Me too.”

“Christ, we’re a mess.” Huber laughs and Kyle nods, moving to put his stuff down at the desk next to Huber’s. They trade coffees. “We should have alternating days for bringing coffee, then, if this is going to keep happening. I’ll take tomorrow?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Kyle agrees. He sits down, takes a sip of his coffee, and flips open his sketchbook.

They work in semi-silence for a while, interrupted occasionally by Huber muttering something or growling at his work. It’s kind of cute, Kyle thinks, to see him get flustered like this over his own work. Kyle also thinks that he probably needs to stop.  

Kyle only takes a break from sketching when his neck starts to hurt. He groans, stretching, and leaning back in his chair.  He rubs his eyes under his glasses and looks back down at his drawings.

It takes him about four seconds to realize that all of the sketches are of Huber. Whoops. He looks over it again. Yep. All Huber. Honestly, it’s not that surprising. This kind of thing happens a lot, especially when he’s trying to sketch realistic people. The faces and figures around him just make their way onto the page.

“Is that me?” Huber asks, peering at Kyle’s sketchbook.

“Yeah, sorry, it just kind of happens sometimes.” Kyle shrugs. “Sorry, I can get rid of them if you want.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Huber chuckles. “You made me look good. Plus, I’ve got this.” He tilts his sketchbook toward Kyle and he looks it. It’s a couple of cartoonish sketches of someone that looks a lot like him. “I can get rid of them, too.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I like the one where I’m juggling coffee cups.” Kyle says.

“Yeah? Me too.” Huber nods. They go back to working.

The next night is Huber’s turn to bring coffee and they hang out in the art studio, half-working, half-talking and it’s good. It’s easy. It’s enjoyable.

When Kyle gets there the next night, coffees in hand, Huber seems… Out of it. Out of it as in he drops his sketchbook when Kyle enters the room and they spend a few seconds staring at each other before he stoops to pick it up.

“Hey.” Huber greets him and Kyle nods.

“Hey. Brought you coffee.” He sets the cup down on Huber’s desk.

“Oh my God, thank you so much. You don’t know how tired I am.” Huber says, chugging the coffee. It’s understandable that he’s tired, he was here working much later than Kyle the previous night. Kyle sets to work sketching again.

The next time he glances over at Huber, he’s asleep, head down on his desk and pencil still gripped loosely in his hands. Kyle chuckles and drapes his hoodie over his shoulders and he leaves not long after that, he doesn’t want to disturb Huber. God knows, he needs more sleep than he gets.

Kyle is in the cafeteria the next day, fixing to eat lunch when he hears someone calling him.

“Bosman!” He looks around and sees Huber waving his arms and beckoning him over to where he and another person are sitting. So, he goes, setting his plate down at one of the empty chairs. “Hey.”

“Hey. How are you? Feeling better?” Kyle asks, sitting down, and Huber nods.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks. Oh, and this is Ian, they’re doing art and gender studies.” Huber introduces and Ian gives a little wave. “Ian, this is Kyle Bosman, studying…” He looks at Kyle for some help.

“Oh! Art and sociology.” Kyle finishes.

“Cool, nice to meet you.” Ian smiles at him.

“Kyle, I’ve got something for you.” Huber ducks down and rummages through his bag, coming back up with Kyle’s hoodie in his hands. “You left this last night. Sorry I fell asleep right after you came.” Ian chokes, a hand pressed over their mouth. Huber glances at them. “You okay?”

“Peachy.” Ian wheezes, trying to keep a straight face.

“Thanks, it’s no big deal, really.” Kyle takes his hoodie back, similarly trying to keep from blushing. “I just thought that you might get cold.”

“Well, thanks. Still sorry that I fell asleep so early, next time I’ll do the same for you, if you want?” Huber offers. Ian coughs loudly and Kyle is reasonably sure that he’s blushing bright red now, despite his earlier attempts to avoid it.

“I didn’t- We didn’t- We were working in the art studio.” Kyle says, shaking his head at Ian.

“Dude, don’t worry, I know. There’s like a zero percent chance of Huber ever actually sleeping with somebody because he spends all his damn time in the studio Plus, there’s the-” Huber clears his throat and Ian stops, awkwardly. “The work ethic, man. I don’t know when he’s not working.” Ian tilts their head at Huber, who huffs. “I was surprised when he said he was talking to someone new.”

“I have other friends than you, y’know.” Huber points out and Ian just shrugs.

“Yeah, you’ve got Bosman.” Ian snorts.

“I’m an okay friend!” Kyle defends himself.

“Look, man, I’m not saying that you aren’t, but is there any time you’re actually outside of your friend group?” Ian asks Huber.

“Look, fuck you, Ian, we have the same friend group.” Huber sighs and Ian nods, leaning back.

“Proves my point.” They state.

“What are you trying to prove?” Huber questions, confused.

“I… I’m not sure. I had a point when I started out, I promise.” Ian says, shrugging. “I really, really did. I think it was about Huber being the most excitable person you will ever meet in your entire damn life and how you’re blessed that you met him because you will never meet anyone better than him, but I kind of devolved into insults, so…”

“That’s so sweet.” Huber places a hand over his heart. “So sweet, Ian. Love you too.”

“Gross.” Ian wrinkles their nose.

Kyle decides that he likes Ian while he’s walking down the steps from the cafeteria and he can hear Ian’s loud voice singing something just before the doors close.

When Kyle pushes his way into the studio that night, he can hear Ian again.

“Dude, you don’t know what you’re talking about! It’s obvious to literally everybody else! You have to do something.” Ian is leaned against Huber’s desk and Huber himself is tilted back in his chair, arms crossed and chin raised.

“I don’t have to do anything! There’s literally no chance, okay? Plus, there’s the whole thing with the… Thing.” Huber bites his lip, white indents on pale pink and before Kyle can let them know that he’s here, Ian is talking again.

“Huber, that doesn’t matter, it doesn’t. You have to do something or I am literally going to die.” Ian looks up and finally notices Kyle, standing awkwardly by the door. “Hey, Bosman.” Huber coughs suddenly, spinning around so quickly that his already tilted chair leans over even more and he falls backwards onto the floor.

“You okay?” Kyle asks, rushing over to help pull Huber up.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” Huber runs a hand over his face. “Just scared me. Guess I should’ve listened when adults told me not to tilt chairs back, huh?” Huber brushes pencil shavings off his shoulder. 

“I mean, probably. That might have been smart.” Kyle glances over at Ian, who’s watching both of them carefully. “Are you working in here with us tonight?”

“God no.” Ian laughs, doing something with their hair. Kyle isn’t sure what, but they did something. Maybe tucked a piece behind their ear, it’s hard to tell. “I spend enough time here during the day. The night is my time. You two are just insane enough to work around the clock. Also, I brought you muffins.”

“Good muffins.” Huber chimes in, nodding. “And there’s coffee.” Kyle nods, appreciatively, and Huber nods back. Unable to think of a proper response, Kyle nods again and Huber does the same. And Kyle still can’t think of anything else to say, so he nods. And so does Huber. And Ian groans loudly.

“Jesus Christ, how are the both of you so bad at human communication? I can’t be in this room anymore, I’m going to suffocate with all this awkward.” Ian presses two fingers to their lips and raises them in a small salute. “Have fun, kids. Stay safe.” They wink and turn around, waltzing through the door. 

“Fucking Ian.” Huber shakes his head, exasperated, and Kyle laughs. “Like, actually the worst person I have ever met in my entire life. Love them to death.”

“I can see why. They bring muffins.” Kyle tosses his sketchbook onto his desk and it flutters open to a blank page. “But you bring coffee. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re both fighting for my affection.” Kyle laughs, sliding into his seat. Huber snorts.

“You wish.” Huber jokes and Kyle tilts his head down so Huber won’t see him blush because if only he knew.

Kyle settles into his chair, flipping through his sketchbook. He needs to start painting today, at least outline it on the canvas, which means that he definitely needs to choose tonight. He thumbs through the pages, tracing a careful finger over the rough lines of people. The one of a woman in a coffee shop has her head tilted weirdly, scarf wrapping too far over her mouth. The one of the kid in the park is unfinished, only half of a profile in uneven lines. The others are disproportionate, too short or too long or too small or too big and hell, he can’t even draw people. This is bad. This is very bad. He needs to be painting right now and he has no sketches for basing, oh God, this is what he thought he was good at. If he thought he was good at this, how bad is he at things he thought he was bad at? He needs to be painting right now, he needs to be working, and he has nothing to go on, he has nothing to draw from. He can’t do anything. He needs to be working and he can’t. He’ll have to start over. He has to start over, oh God, all this lost work, all these unusable drawings. None of these are good enough to be turned in as a rough sketch, none of these are even slightly okay.

“Kyle?” There’s a hand on his shoulder and Kyle jumps, whipping his head up to see Huber standing over him. “You need to calm down, okay? You’re breathing really fast, you’re gonna spiral into hyperventilating or something, okay? You need to calm down, Bosman.”

“No one  _ needs _ to do anything.” His words are run together like thin watercolour on paper. “Should I be calming down? Yes. Am I? Not a chance.”

“C’mon, Bossy, it’s alright, just breathe. You can calm down, nothing’s wrong, everything is going to be a-okay.” Huber reassures him and Kyle lets out a huffed, stressed laugh.

“I can’t believe you say ‘a-okay’. Are you even real?” Kyle pushes lightly against Huber’s chest. He is warm. Or is Kyle just cold? He isn’t sure.

“Yep, I’m real.” Huber chuckles. “Very real. And you still need to calm down. Deep breaths, yeah? And then you can tell me what’s stressing you out.” Kyle nods, trying to take even breaths, and when his pulse is finally not at a breakneck speed, and when his hands are no longer trembling, Huber gestures for him to speak.

“It’s just- It’s the- the painting. It doesn’t wan-” Huber holds up a hand, slowly and carefully, and Kyle stops mid-sentence.

“You’re going to have to slow down, I can’t understand you.” He says and Kyle nods.

“Okay, okay. Yeah. No. I’m just stressed out. None of the sketches I have are good enough to be turned in for a grade.” Kyle furrows his eyebrows. “The ones of you are okay, but really unfinished and I can’t exactly draw you for my project.”

“Why not?” Huber asks. “If you think they’re alright, then use them. I don’t mind, if it makes it easier for you. It would be kind of cool, actually. See how much my face is worth on a grading scale.”  _ Don’t think I could do it justice _ Kyle thinks and then blushes because he really needs to stop now. Stopping is number one on his priority list.

“I don’t have any finished ones, though.” Kyle points out. “And in half of these you can’t even see your face.”

“Well, the sketch isn’t due for two days, right?” Huber asks and Kyle nods. That is the deadline, after all, even if he was going to try to turn it in early so he could get a headstart on the painting. “Why don’t you come over to my apartment tomorrow afternoon? I’m free and I’ll model for you, even.” That could work, now that Kyle thinks about it. He wouldn’t be able to get ahead, but that’s okay, it would end up being fine. Also, there’s an opportunity to get Huber to pose for him and he wants that more than is probably sance.

“Okay.” Kyle nods and Huber beams. “Yeah. That’ll work.”

“Good.” Huber reaches across Kyle and flips his sketchbook closed. “But now you’re going to sleep. Go get in bed, man, you’re entirely too stressed. I’ll text you my address.”

“Just let me stay a little more.” Kyle bargains and Huber responds by physically dragging him out of his seat, pushing him through the door, and closing it behind him.

Kyle spends approximately two minutes banging on the door, trying to get Huber to let him back in, before giving up and trudging across the campus to where he knows sleep is waiting for him. It’s a more comforting thought than it should be. If Kyle’s this tired after only a couple days of this routine, he doesn’t know how Huber does it. Can’t fathom how Huber does it. The only possible explanation for it is that Huber’s not human, but his tired mind does not what to think about the possibilities and implications of that. 

True to his word, Kyle shows up at Huber’s apartment the next afternoon after his classes. He’s about to knock on the door, fist raised, when it swings open in front of him and Huber is standing there, grinning, and Kyle is blinking because didn’t there used to be a door there literally half a second ago?

“Hey, you came!” Huber greets him, pulling Kyle inside the apartment by his sleeves.

“Yeah? I said I would.” Kyle detaches Huber from his hoodie and Huber slams the door, quickly. Kyle raises an eyebrow. “What’s up with that?”

“Mm? Oh, if anyone stands in the hallway for more than about a minute, the neighbor’s will take notice. Only if they’re standing in front of my door. And then if I ever run into them they’ll want to grill me on me new ‘relationship’ and if Ian knows I’m cheating on them.” Huber shakes his head. “I hate them all, man. You would not believe how many times I’ve explained to them that I’m not dating Ian and they always seem to conveniently forget that.”

“Sounds stressful.” Kyle remarks and Huber nods.

“Oh, definitely. Especially when Ian is around and someone decides to bring it up and well… Ian is a very affectionate person that likes to see me suffer. I’m not even kidding. One time someone asked if we were dating at a barbecue and Ian went full on make out mode and then turned around and said no.” Huber huffs. “Like, platonic affection should totally be normalized, but now everyone here thinks I’m a weird fuck-up that can’t get his relationships in order.”

“Well, y’know.” Kyle shrugs.

“I know what?” Huber asks, looking confused.

“Just y’know.” Kyle says, afraid to nod because that might start the head bob cycle all over again. “I don’t know actually. I’m sorry.” Huber laughs.

“No, it’s good. You bring your art stuff?” Huber questions and Kyle places a hand over his heart.

“What kind of self-hating artist do you think I am? Of course I did.” He pats his messenger bag. “Got everything I’ll ever need in here.”

“Alright, well, I guess we’re good. I’ve been told that my kitchen has excellent lighting by a few artists if you want to go in there, but we can go anywhere, pretty much.” Huber says and Kyle shrugs.

“Kitchen works for me.” Huber reaches out to take his arm again, thinks the better of it, and lets his hand back down to his side, leading Kyle to the kitchen without contact. He was right, it did have good lighting, surprisingly good lighting for a kitchen in an apartment. “Out of curiousity, who were the authors who liked this lighting? Were they you and Ian?”

“No! Maybe. Yes.” Huber admits, sheepishly. “Look, I’ve had people that aren’t artists say that the lighting is great. Brad, for one.”

“Who’s Brad?” Kyle questions, setting down his sketchbook with a dull thud. 

“Oh, yeah, you haven’t met him yet. I’ll get him to sit with us at lunch sometime, he’s great.” Huber stands awkwardly next to the table. “Anything I can get you? Or me? For modelling? I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“You might want to get some water, this might take a while. And I’ll tell you what you need to do, don’t worry about it.” Kyle instructs and Huber nods, filling a glass with water from the sink before sitting down. He nearly falls out of his chair. “Dude, dude, you’re going to have to calm down. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Huber laughs.

“Probably. Okay, tell me how to sit now. Like this?” He strikes a ridiculous pose and Kyle snorts.

“You’ll get tired like that. Here, sit like this.” Kyle assumes the proper form and Huber follows suit, head tilted up. His shirt is slipping down over his shoulder and yellow sunlight is pooling in the well of his collarbone. Kyle bites the eraser of his pencil and flips open to a new page of paper.

One and a half hours later, Huber is trying very hard not to shake in his pose and Kyle is still drawing, gnawing on his pencil again. Conversation went out the window during the first fifteen minutes when Huber realized that Kyle couldn’t concentrate and chat at the same time. And now, Kyle is so deep into his self-dubbed ‘art mode’ that he doesn’t hear the door to the apartment enter and someone walk up behind him.

“Looks good.” Kyle jumps, throwing his sketchbook halfway across the room and barely managing to keep a hold on his pencil. Ian snorts. “Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” Huber breaks his pose to laugh as Kyle stands up to retrieve his notebook.

“Ian, what exactly did you expect?” Huber asks and Ian shrugs.

“I didn’t see you warning me about them.” Kyle points out. Huber crosses his arms defensively, pouting.

“Hey, I was zoned out, okay? I was too deep into the black hole of modeling to notice anything else.” Huber defends himself and Kyle chuckles.

“Sorry for interrupting, though.” Ian apologizes. “Looks good, though. Ten out of ten, would scare Bossy to look again.” Kyle sticks out his tongue and Ian raises an eyebrow in response. 

“Do you live here?” Kyle asks because it would make sense, wouldn’t it? With everything Huber has told him, plus the two are basically best friends.

“Pff, no.” Ian chuckles. “Of course not, I’ve just got a key.”

“I don’t know how they got it.” Huber stage whispers and Kyle covers his mouth to keep from laughing.

“Huber, one night in first year in the art room, you fell asleep. I had to carry you back to your apartment and dig the key out of your back pocket. This happened again. And again. And again. And I got tired of fondling your ass, hard to imagine, I know, but it happened. I got a copy of your key made while you were asleep and put the original on the kitchen table.” Ian explains. Huber shakes his head and Ian looks annoyed. “I’ve literally told you this story before.”

“And I still don’t believe you.” Huber says.

“Is it because of the ass thing? Look, Huber, I’ve told you before, you have like two pairs of jeans that make you look good and you never wear them.” Ian holds up their hands in a mock defense, palms out. “You literally can’t blame me here, I have a better ass than you.”

“I don’t think I’m ever going to understand your friendship.” Kyle remarks, bemused.

“All you need to know,” Ian claps him on the shoulder, “is that I’m the cute one.” Huber huffs.

“I beg to differ.” He sniffs. “I don’t see Kyle sketching you for a project.”

“Please leave me out of this.” Kyle pleads. “I am an innocent bystander who does not need this right now or any other time.”

“Fine, fine, truce?” Huber offers, stretching out his hand.

“Truce.” Ian takes it, shaking lightly. “But we’re picking this up later, believe me.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less from you, don’t disappoint me now.” Huber shakes his head as Ian lets go.

“Of course not.” Ian nods, clicking their tongue. “How could you think I would? I’m a perfect model of a human being.” Kyle snorts and Ian turns toward him. “You got something to say?”

“No, no, of course not.” Kyle shakes his head, hands up. “I think you’re perfect.” Ian nods in approval. Huber groans loudly, cracking his neck with a quick roll.

“This is more stressful than you’d imagine, modeling Painful too. You need me to get back in position?” Huber asks and Kyle looks down at the sketch.

“No, we should be good. They’re a couple of details that I can fill in with a picture of you, I don’t want to hurt you anymore.” Kyle says and Huber waves him off.

“Yeah, I’ll text you later. And don’t worry about hurting me, no beauty without pain, right?” Huber grimaces. “I hate that saying. It’s horrible. God, it’s so bad.”

“Really gross.” Ian agrees, shaking their head. “Like, the absolute worst. Disgusting. Reinforcing the patriarchy with sayings, the fuckers. Hate them all.”

“It’s bad. And it’s been getting worse when it should be getting better.” Kyle chimes in and they fall quietly introspective. It lasts for a minute and a half before Huber clears his throat and offers up a few rounds of Mario Kart. Kyle, priding him

self on not being a total idiot, takes him up on it. 

They end up not going to the studio that night and Kyle doesn’t leave Huber’s apartment until ten thirty. 

Kyle pushes into the studio the next evening, coffees in hands, and finds Huber without Kyle, head in his hands and surrounded by messy piles of paper.

“What’s up?” He asks, setting down the paper cup with a small noise. Huber groans and looks up.

“This story. I can’t tell if it’s cohesive. Or simple enough for kids to understand.” He drags a hand over his eyes. “Writing for children is hard, man, I literally hate them.”

“Aw, don’t be like that.” Kyle slips into his chair. “If you want, you can read it to me. I have the attention span of a toddler most of the time, so it’ll be like a test run.”

“Really?” Huber smiles. “That would be great.” He pushes the papers together, rifling through them quickly. “Okay, so keep in mind that this is a really, really rough plan and it’s not anywhere close to being done.”

“You’re not supposed to tear down your work before you present it.” Kyle reminds and Huber rolls his eyes.

“That’s like, literally impossible, okay? Do you know how hard it is to think your own work is actually any good?” Huber asks, fiddling with the paper in his hands, creasing and uncreasing corners, smearing the small lines of graphite into small patches of grey.

“I think you forget that I’m an artist, too. You witnessed one of my work breakdowns, those happen more than I’d like to admit.” Kyle smiles softly at Huber. “But I’m sure your story is great. Anything you do is great, trust me.”

“You sound like Ian.” Huber groans, but he’s blushing, peach on pale cheeks. Sunset at the beach when the sand is white and the sky is painted in glowing pink.

“Is that a compliment?” Kyle questions, unsure, still smiling.

“One of the highest.” Huber murmurs. “Ian is the best person I’ve ever met, trust me. They’re a treasure. And not in the weird condescending way old ladies say it, but an actual legit treasure.” Kyle wonders how the two met for a brief moment, how Huber came to have this mindset about Ian. He can see why he would, definitely, but what got it to this point? He doesn’t even know when the two met, he’d hazard before college, though, because they have a camaraderie that has to date back more than one year. Huber claps his hands, pulling Kyle out of his thoughts. “Okay, enough stalling. You ready?”

“Of course.” Kyle leans back in his chair, crossing his arms across his chest. “Hit me with it.”

“Once upon a time, there was an artist and there was a boy, but these two were one and the same. A boy artist.” Huber licks his lips, slowly, and Kyle can clearly see that the artist boy on the page is based off him, with the glasses and the hair and it looks very similar to those sketches Huber did of him on that second night. “This boy artist loved to draw. People and plants and animals and anything, really. But one day, he had nothing to draw, not a single thing. So, he packed up his bag with pencils and papers and he set off to find the perfect thing to draw.” Huber’s story is nothing short of amazing, the boy artist ends up travelling all around, sketching multiple things and being disappointed with them, while the subjects are immensely pleased and ask to keep them for themselves. The boy obliges. He gets tired, after a while, and he settles down underneath a tree to nap. He wakes up to another artist boy drawing him, and he, in turn, starts to draw the second boy. It turns out perfectly and both of them are very happy and promise to draw together again sometime. 

It also might help that Huber is a fantastic story teller, doing all the voices in that children’s book kind of way, exaggerated and slightly ridiculous, but perfect. So perfect. Kyle never actually read a ton of books gauged toward children when he was one, but he can see the appeal of this story, and he’s sure that it’s going to do great when Huber gets it published, because there’s no way he won’t. He praises Huber, voices everything that was so good, so all of it. He voices all of it. Huber blushes, peaches and cream. Pastel. Pink. Perfect.

Kyle Bosman is definitely Gone with a capital ‘g’, and really he’s just mad at himself. He doesn’t long after people, never has, and now here he is flipping through a kid’s book written about him and trying not to look up at Huber because that smile will make him say something, he knows it. Damn it. Pine is a type of tree, not an emotion reserved for over-excitable happy boys with blond hair.

Their lives go on after this, a continuation of the studio nights and coffee and lunch dates that aren’t really dates even though Kyle would like them to be. Kyle gets his rough sketch back, a red one hundred written on the back in pen, and he starts transferring it to the canvas. God, he hates painting. And Huber is doing yet another mock-up, a more professional one, he explains.

And then something unprecedented happens. Kyle gets to the studio before Huber.

It’s odd, that kind of feeling you get when you’re in a large store at eleven thirty at night and there is no one else around. Kyle feels like he shouldn’t be here, but he shakes it off and sits down at his desk. Opens his notebook. Starts to press pencil to paper.

The door bursts open, suddenly, and Kyle breaks the graphite, splintering on the paper, as Ian stands, panting in the doorway.

“Are you ok-” Kyle begins to ask, worried, but then Ian is rushing over to him and pulling him up from the chair, both hands closed around his collar. If Kyle didn’t know any better, this would look like a scene in a romantic movie where the main character goes to reclaim their lost love interest.

“Shape the fuck up and stop being such a damn circle!” Ian orders, voice raised, and that kind of shatters Kyle’s relation to any sort of romantic movie. “Ask Huber out! Square up, fucker!”

“What?” Kyle manages and Ian sighs, releasing Kyle’s shirt to press a hand against their face.

“You have to ask him out. At this rate, you’re both going to die before anything happens.” Ian rolls their eyes. “I’d rather have one of you alive for the wedding, yeah? And at this rate, Huber’s going to die before he gets out of college simply due to lack of sleep so you need to step up your efforts. Get your head in the game, son!”

“I’m sorry?” Kyle says, again, bewildered. Ian huffs.

“You’re going to kill me. You like him. I know you like him. Literally everyone knows you like him except for him. You. Just. Have. To. Go. For. It.” Ian punctuates every word by poking Kyle in the chest. “Seriously. Dude. You have an opportunity here, Huber is the best person in the entire damn world, and if you don’t take it, you’re going to kick yourself forever. Alright, you got it?” Kyle shrugs.

“I gues-” Ian cuts him off again.

“Okay, good, nice chat, great to see you again, gotta dash before Huber comes and kicks my ass!” They kiss their fingers and raise them in a salute. “Get that gay boy! Give him your whole damn heart, he deserves nothing less! Alright, see you!” They leave the room as quickly as they entered it and Kyle is left, standing, with a dull pencil in his hand. 

He’s still stuck like this when Huber rushes in, gasping, face bright red.

“Hey, hi, hi, hello, sorry.” He says between breaths. “Ian fucking- They threw my keys out my window and then ran, sorry, they can be horrible. But they landed on my neighbor’s balcony, somehow, I don’t know, but I had to go over there and then she wouldn’t let me leave and kept saying I reminded her of her husband and showed me pictures of him from the war and then said that the moon-landing was faked and I think I should move. I think she’s planning on killing me. Did you know she was also an avid fan of taxidermy because I didn’t until she showed me the corpses of her eighteen cats.”

“I’d be less worried about her killing you and more about her killing you, then stuffing you and keeping you in her apartment as a tribute to her dead husband.” Kyle points out. Huber looks slightly horrified.

“Why did… Why did your mind immediately go to that? Should I be worried about you instead? I can introduce you to Meredith, you’ll probably remind her of her dead brother, or something. You’ll have a friend and then you won’t have to talk to me about this.” Huber is trying to look serious, face set in a hard line, but his eyes are shining with unvoiced laughter.

“Look, okay, we had to read this short story in high-school about a woman that stuffed people and it stuck with me.” Kyle holds up his hands. “Blame my english teacher, not me.”

“Sure, as if you didn’t lobby to read that.” Huber slides his sketchbook onto the desk. “I think I read that story, though. Part of it, at least. It freaked me the fuck out.” Kyle snorts. Anyone who wasn’t freaked out by that story was at least partly a psychopath. “But now you know that if I go missing, you should check Meredith’s apartment. And then Ian’s apartment.”

“You think Ian would stuff you?” Kyle asks, eyebrow raised, skeptical. Huber shrugs.

“Man, I don’t know. Maybe. Never place bets on what you think Ian is going to do, they’ll just end up doing something you never even considered.” Huber shakes his head.

“You sound experienced with that.” Kyle remarks and Huber huffs, sitting down. Kyle follows him. 

“You have no idea.” Huber launches into a story, but Kyle is only half-listening. He’s a little pre-occupied by Huber’s face, Ian’s words ringing in his ears. What the hell is he supposed to do now?

It’s not exactly awkward after that, but Ian keeps giving him pointed looks whenever Huber isn’t looking. Kyle pointedly ignores them.

He turns in his completed painting two weeks after the taxidermy incident, as it’s been dubbed, and he decides to celebrate. It’s Friday, after all, he’s allowed to loosen up a little bit. So, he skips going to the studio that night and instead plays Tetris in his apartment. Alone. And he might get more than a little angry. And he might get more than a little drunk. And he might give up on playing Tetris at a quarter after midnight and he might try to text Huber.

 

TO: HUBER

G’morning

 

FROM: HUBER

It’s been morning for fifteen minutes. You get fed up with Tetris?

 

TO: HUBER

Tetris can go die (:

 

FROM: HUBER   
Jfc how drunk are you? The birdman I know would never insult Tetris like this

 

FROM: HUBER   
*Bosman oh my gosh, but I like birdman more

 

TO: HUBER 

Call me birdman and youll end up in the pit w tetris

 

FROM: HUBER

Okay drunk you is scary

 

TO: HUBER

thx

 

FROM: HUBER

That’s horrifying, Kyle

 

FROM: HUBER

Let me sleep now, I don’t need these nightmares

 

TO: HUBER

But Huber

 

TO: HUBER

Huber what am i suppposed to do

 

TO: HUBER

Who else am I supposed to talk to Huber who else caN i talk to about tetris

 

FROM: HUBER

Go pester Ian

 

FROM: HUBER

zzzz 

 

TO: HUBER

kk

  
  


TO: IAN

helllo Huber told me to talk to you

 

FROM: IAN

Aight. How was tetris?

 

TO: IAN

whereis the knife emoji i can not find it but it accurately sums up Tetris right now

 

FROM: IAN

I think I like drunk you

TO: IAN

Pfffffff no i dont even like sober me you don’t like drunk me

 

FROM: IAN

Sure I do

 

FROM: IAN

What’s up with you and the puppy boi tho? You need to make some /moves/

 

TO: IAN

nah

FROM: IAN

Nah? 

 

FROM: IAN

Why nah?

 

TO: IAN

Becausee i’m not for hom

 

FROM: IAN

You’re kidding, right?

 

TO: IAN

I am a mess ian huber doesn’t need a mess huber needs a mop too many messes alreadu

 

TO: IAN

He doesn’t need a twenty something year oldthat cant make hsi mind up about sex

 

TO: IAN

heck ignore that pleasthsnks

 

FROM: IAN

You’re ace?

 

TO: IAN

No where did you get that idea nope no definitely not i am fine with it fine with 

 

FROM: IAN

Dude. it’s good. you’re good. everything’s fine

 

TO: IAN

ssssssure

 

FROM: IAN

is that what you’re worried about with Huber?

 

TO: IAN

maybe. i don’t know. Maybe

 

FROM: IAN

Huber is literally the most chill person about gender identities and sexualities, no joke

 

FROM: IAN

He was the fourth person I came out to and the first accept me, man. He won’t think of you any differently

 

TO: IAN

ive been told that beforre ian

 

TO: IAN

like not

 

TO: IAN

not good

 

FROM: IAN

you’re gonna have to trust me on this, it’ll be fine.

 

FROM: IAN

Are you okay?

 

TO: IAN

might be crying might be the alcohol not sure anymore

 

FROM: IAN

Maybe don’t drink alone anymore. And get some sleep.

 

TO: IAN 

K night

  
  
  


TO: IAN

Sorry about last night, apparently it was a sad drunk kind of evening.

 

FROM: IAN

Don’t sweat it :)

 

FROM: IAN

You should go tho

 

FROM: IAN   
Go get ya man boi

 

TO: IAN

But like.

 

TO: IAN

Hard

 

TO: IAN

And he doesn’t like me like that, you know that

 

FROM: IAN

he literally wrote a book about you, man. like. wrote a book. there's no way this isn't some cliche rom-com setup

 

TO: IAN

people write books about their friends all the time. most children's books are written about friends

 

FROM: IAN 

do you want me to strangle you because i will. get in gear i literally told you to ask him out two months ago. you need to push this along

 

TO: IAN

Look okay he doesn’t flirt he only does like friendly compliments

 

TO: IAN

And tells me that I look good but he tells that to everybody okay

 

FROM: IAN 

WHAT IS WROG WIT HYOU  YES THAT IS FLIRTING,,,,

 

FROM: IAN

I AM GOING TO COME OVER THERE AND KICK YOUR ASS YOU HEAR ME?? YOU ARE SUCH BULLSHIT THAT IS FLIRTING MOTHER OF GOD FLIRTING SO MUCH KYLE ‘NEVER INTERACTED WITH A CUTE LOVEABLE PERSON BEFORE’ BOSMAN I LEGIT HATE YOU I HOPE YOU CHOKE I HOPE YOU CHOK E AND DIE AND CONFESS YOUR LOVE ON YOUR DEATH BED YOU OBLIVIOUS FUCK

 

TO: IAN

Well. that is not very nice Ian

 

FROM: IAN   
I WOULD LIKE VERY MUCH FOR YOU TO ChOKE ON A GOD DAMN PUDDING CUP OR YOU KNWO WHAT MAYBE SOME APPLESAUCE BECAUSE YOU’RE ACTING LIKE A DAMN KINDERGARTENER FANCY FOOTING YOUR WAY AROUND YOUR CRUSHES FUCKO

 

FROM: IAN   
THE WORST PERSON I HAVE EVER KNOWN KYLE ‘CAN’T FUCKING COPE WITH HIS FEELINGS BECAUSE HE’S STUPID AND OBLIVIOUS AND HIS SELF ESTEEM IS ABOUT THE SIZE OF A FROZEN GOD DAMN PEA’ BOSMAN

  
  


TO: IAN

Now you’re just being rude

 

TO: IAN

Mean meanie meanie mean

 

TO: IAN

Gosh danny darn dinging wing ding wig wam dinner deck dally dab meanie

 

FROM: IAN

Did you have a stroke? Do you even know what dabbing is?

 

FROM: IAN

Do you. Do you know what dabbing is.

 

TO: IAN

Isn’t it when you wave your arms around all chaotically?

 

FROM: IAN

Kyle, kyle, kyle, kyle,

 

FROM: IAN

That’s flailing

 

FROM: IAN

Okay Kyle do not try to woo the Hube with dancing. You’ll only push him away.

 

TO: IAN

,,, the Hube?

 

FROM: IAN

Shut up hecko.

 

Kyle ‘Yes, hello, my name is Kyle Bosman and I have never once had an interaction with a human that didn’t emotionally scar me or leave somebody crying and subsequently, I have no idea how to receive compliments or pick up on the clues that people are flirting with me, but that is mostly because I am oblivious to social cues and have no idea how regular people talk to each other like humans, whereas I carry myself more like a bird that doesn’t quite know it’s a bird, but definitely knows it’s not human and gets sad very easily thinking of minor things’ Bosman, as Ian has dubbed him as of late, continues to not act on his feelings for three weeks. 

Kyle ‘Doesn’t understand that asking people to go bowling is definitely a date and Huber slinging an arm around him whenever they are within two feet of each other is definitely flirting’ Bosman, continues to ignore countless gestures from Ian whenever he and Huber are in the same room together. 

Kyle ‘I told Huber that I was asexual during a very spirited game of Mario Kart and he ended up yelling “Great job, me too, now you better not throw that fucking blue shell because I swear to god, Bossy, I will end you!” and then afterwards wrapped me in a hug and told me that I was fine and valid and perfectly amazing and then he apologized for making me cry and ordered us pizza and I don’t know where the line between a Mario Kart night and a date night even begins” Bosman continues to pine even though he will never admit it to anyone but himself.

Kyle ‘I did not know how to properly respond to a compliment about how I looked in my glasses, so I ran away and did not talk to Huber for three days while also stressing myself out and managing to get absolutely nothing done because I was stressing myself out over a compliment because I am a perfectly functional member of society, fucking sike’ Bosman continues to dance around the situation, somehow managing to be as indiscreet as possible about something he’s trying to be discreet about, but Huber never notices.

Kyle ‘I accidentally wore skinny jeans and Huber complimented me so I ran away again and ended up on the roof, nearly fell off the roof, and had to call Huber to come and open the door so I could come back down because the door locked behind me and there is definitely nothing wrong with me, this is how normal people interact, normal people can’t take compliments, normal people nearly throw themselves off roofs and then awkwardly stand in an art studio for three hours because Huber locked the doors so I can’t leave and now he’s bombarding me with compliments and he’s made me promise I can’t say anything but ‘thank you’ and I think I’m going to die because he is simply too sweet and too nice’ Bosman continues to be a fucko.

It’s not really something he can help, though. Ian has determined that it’s written too deeply into his genetic code to be fixed. 

Kyle getting to the studio has become a more often occurrence nowadays. Mostly because Ian trips up Huber or does something so they can have a chance alone to threaten Kyle with bodily harm if he doesn’t get his ass in gear, but that’s neither here nor there.

Kyle’s staring at his phone, reading texts from Ian that are an odd mix of emojis, threats, and variations on ‘I love you, but Jesus Christ’. It’s not the worst conversation he’s ever had. As Kyle reaches the studio doors and he hears a squeak, like shoes on the slick floor. He looks up just in time to see Huber careen around the corner and slam into him.

The floor is very cold.

But the coffee is very hot.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” Huber is laughing and when Kyle brings his head up, he’s on a similar position on the floor, sprawled out and covered in coffee. “Oh my God, I’m the worst, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine, really!” Kyle reassures him, sitting upright. The coffee is spreading all over the floor and the two cups lay crushed and sideways. “I locked myself on the roof, I think we’re even.”

“Practically made for each other, yeah?” Huber jokes, grinning, and Kyle blanks. If his mind was a landscape there would be a sole tumbleweed drifting across it. There’s a lapse in the conversation, a lull, a drop of silence, and Kyle can’t stand something like this, where he should be responding, but can’t and he blurts the first thing that comes to his mind.

“Marry me.” In the clarity of a few seconds later, he realizes that it probably was not the best thing for him to say, but it was said and Huber is still smiling.

“I think you’d have to take me on a date first.” Huber stands, shakily, trying not to slip in the coffee. He offers Kyle a hand up, which Kyle takes.

“Well, you know. We are out of coffee.” Kyle gestures down. “And we need some more.” Huber smiles so widely it looks like his face might crack.

“Yeah. Yeah, coffee, date, coffee date. Let’s do it. We’re going to do it.” Huber nods and Kyle takes his arm, guiding him around the coffee and leading him down the hallway to the stairs. “We’re actually doing it, oh my God. I wasn’t expecting this. I didn’t plan this, i swear, I never wanted to cover you in coffee.”

“It’s okay, really. And trust me, I don’t think you’re that devious.” Kyle laughs. “But come to think of it, the stairs are on this side of the building…”

“There’s an elevator on the other side, Kyle. C’mon, we’re going to have to hurry this up, otherwise I’ll fall asleep in your arms before we even get to the coffee shop.”

 

TO: IAN

Boys being boys. Getting coffee alone together. Boys being great friends

FROM: IAN

Where’s the knife emoji Kyle I need it right now

 

TO: IAN

Boys being on dates

 

FROM: IAN

WELL SCRATCH THAT WHERE’S THE ONE HUNDRED EMOJI 

 

FROM: IAN

PROUD OF YOU TWO

 

FROM: IAN

CONGRATU HECKING LATIONS

 

FROM: IAN   
WHY AM I TEXTING YOU YOU’RE ON A DATE IGNORE ME BUT HAVE FUN DON’T DIE I’M VERY PROUD OF BOTH OF YOU OKAY GOING NOW ONE MORE TIME I’M VERY PROUD AND HAPPY AND HAVE A GREAT TIME BOTH OF YOU ARE GREAT PEOPLE OKAY BY FOR REAL NOW

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> woo boi! fun times.  
> check me out on tumblr if you want!! (psst i take prompts) @ taptaptapping.tumblr.com


End file.
